


keep it behind latches

by lco123



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-12 17:12:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7114915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lco123/pseuds/lco123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanna and Emily, both at a bit of a crossroads, move in together and make a pact.</p><p>Post-season 6, with a slight change: Jordan doesn’t exist and Hanna was never engaged, but the events of the season otherwise unfolded the same. Spencer and Caleb got together, and Hanna and Caleb kissed right before Hanna was kidnapped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. September

After she’s woken up, after her mother has cried and the doctor has taken a look and the police have asked some questions, Hanna’s friends are finally allowed in. One by one, is the instruction, and Hanna picks Emily first. Emily is in tears and immediately takes Hanna’s hand.  

She probably isn’t expecting Hanna’s first words to be, “I kissed Caleb,” because she instantly stops sniffling and wrinkles her eyebrow. 

“What?!”

Hanna sighs heavily. Her whole body hurts—not terribly, but it aches. All things considered, it could have been a lot worse: a sprained wrist and bruised ribs isn’t so bad. Her brain feels heavy; she was drugged, a needle through the foot at the Lost Woods Resort, and that’s why she doesn’t remember anything. The last thing she does remember is, well…

“Or he kissed me. Point is, we kissed.”

“Why?” Emily doesn’t seem angry, just confused.

“I don’t know, Em. I didn’t plan it,” Hanna says with a touch of defensiveness. She tries to shrug but her shoulders are too stiff. “One minute, we were talking, and the next, we were kissing.” She closes her eyes as a wave of nausea hits her. “Oh god, Spencer is going to kill me.”

“Spencer is so happy you’re alive. She’s not going to kill you,” Emily says softly.

“Why not? I’d want to kill me, if I was her,” Hanna replies.

“No, you would be hurt, and angry, and you wouldn’t want to talk to her—er, you—for a while. But you would not want to kill her.” Emily narrows an eye. “I mean you. I can’t keep talking in these theoreticals.” 

She sounds a bit annoyed, and Hanna knows she probably has a million questions not pertaining to this fucked-up little love triangle Hanna’s found herself in. But Emily being Emily, she puts that aside and asks, “Han, do you want him back?”

“No,” Hanna says automatically, then considers for a moment. “Maybe.” After another beat, she says, “I don’t think so,” and that feels the closest to the truth.

“Okay, so why the kiss?” Emily asks.

“I don’t know,” Hanna admits. “Things ended so quickly for us. We never really had closure, whatever the hell that means.” It’s not a good excuse, but it’s something approximating an explanation.

“I don’t think kissing him is going to get you any closer to closure,” Emily points out.

Hanna scowls, feeling the knot in her stomach tighten. “Really, Em? What would make you say that?” she tosses back sarcastically. When Emily gives her a half-hurt, half-stern look, Hanna looks down. “Sorry, that wasn’t necessary.”

“I’m on your side here, Han,” Emily says gently.

“I know that,” Hanna replies. She always knows that, where Emily is concerned.

Emily rubs a thumb over Hanna’s hand, the non-sprained one. Hanna can’t totally make eye-contact with her, but she raises her head as Emily says, “But I’m also on Spencer’s side.”

“We’re not on opposite sides,” Hanna states sharply. She wishes she sounded surer.

“No, but it’s going to feel that way to Spence until you talk to her,” Emily says.

Hanna breathes in shakily. It feels like the entire world is crashing down, and for a million different reasons. These past twenty-four hours have been a whirlwind, and though it’s a little ridiculous that this is what Hanna’s choosing to fixate on, she can’t focus on much else. The idea that Spencer could hate her…well, she can’t bear it.

“Do you think Caleb told her?” she asks Emily.

“Not yet, probably, with everything that’s going on,” Emily surmises. “But he will. He’s a good guy.” She hesitates, frowning. “At least, I always thought he was.”

“Hey, he still is,” Hanna says. He is, she knows it. His heart is just all twisted up like hers is. He never would have done it, if she hadn’t said anything.

“Okay,” Emily will allow. She doesn’t sound entirely convinced, and she looks like she wants to say more. “It’ll break Spencer’s heart if you guys get back together.” Emily catches Hanna’s eye then, and Hanna forces herself to not look away.

“Yeah,” is all she can say in reply.

“But she would understand, in time. She never puts herself first,” Emily says a bit sadly.

“I know.” Hanna feels like she could throw up again. She’s not sure she’s ever regretted a decision so much. “I don’t want to get back together with him,” she decides then and there. “Even if I did, I couldn’t do that to Spencer. Not after this. She’s more important. I can lose Caleb. I lost him for the last three years. I can’t lose her.”

Emily smiles, and the sight starts to thaw something in Hanna. “Tell her that, then,” Emily instructs.

Hanna exhales quickly. “I will,” she promises.

 

Spencer is, for sure, heartbroken, but Hanna discovers a weird perk of almost dying: people can’t be 100% mad at you. Hanna thinks Caleb did already tell her, because Spencer walks in with her guard fully up. But Hanna sees it fall, for just a second, when she sees Hanna’s face. And then it goes back up, and Hanna’s knot tightens with it.

“Hey,” Spencer says, coming to sit beside Hanna’s bed. That one syllable is simultaneously cool and raw, and it erases any doubt in Hanna’s mind that Spencer knows.

“He told you,” she states, and Spencer nods. “Spencer, this wasn’t planned, and I’m so sorry,” Hanna says, her voice cracking at the edges. “I never thought…I mean, I was _done_ with him, I really was, when I told you to go for it, and I don’t want him back, not at all, I just want _you_ back. Please, Spence, I just feel—” Hanna’s nearly hyperventilating, and she only stops talking when Spencer places a hand on her arm.

“Breathe,” Spencer instructs. “Look, Han, I—I’m really hurt right now. But I’m really glad you’re alive.”

“I wasn’t so sure you would be,” Hanna replies, wiping a tear away.

Spencer rolls her eyes. “Of course I am. But I might just need a little time.”

Hanna inhales, trying to keep her breath from hitching. “I understand. You and Caleb?” she asks pensively.

Spencer arches an eyebrow. “No longer two names that will be linked together,” she comments dryly.

“Oh, are you serious?” Hanna murmurs, a lump reforming in her throat. “It doesn’t have to be the end for you guys.”

“Yes, it does,” Spencer says. “It’s not just about the kiss, Han. He wasn’t…he wasn’t in this, with me, as much as I thought he was.”

Hanna has a feeling that Spencer wants to break down but doesn’t want to do so in front of her, and that fact makes Hanna want to sob. “I’m sorry,” she says.

“Thanks,” Spencer replies. “I should go. There’s work to be done.” She stands and Hanna thinks that’s that, but then Spencer leans forward and places a kiss on her temple. “It’ll be okay,” she whispers, and Hanna realizes she didn’t believe that until now.

 

Hanna gets out of the hospital a few days later. Ashley wants to take her home but Hanna can’t stand the hovering, so she goes back to Lucas’s loft with Emily. She hasn’t seen Caleb and doesn’t want to, has only texted him briefly stressing how big of a mistake their kiss was. He hasn’t tried to see her either, so she thinks he must feel the same. She knows her friends have been hard at work trying to solve this latest mystery, and while a few pieces have come together nothing has seemed to stick. Hanna is tired, so damn tired, and she certainly isn’t about to throw herself into the fray again anytime soon. Her friends, thankfully, understand.

One afternoon, Hanna’s sitting on the couch messing around on Lucas’s iPad while Emily makes them dinner, when she suddenly hits a screen she’s never seen before and exclaims, “Holy shit!”

“What?” Emily asks with concern, rushing over.

Hanna tilts the screen in Emily’s direction, and Emily’s eyes widen. The screen is sectioned into four quadrants of security cam footage from different spots in the loft, but the footage isn't from right now. It's from sometime last week, and Hanna can tell because she sees herself changing out of a dress she wore last week in one section. Then there’s Emily, going to the bathroom in her underwear in the next. 

But the really disturbing image is below: it appears to be footage from inside the toilet that Emily was peeing in.

“Jesus Christ,” Hanna mutters. “This place is a perv palace.”

“I knew there was something messed up about Lucas,” Emily murmurs, pulling her sweater tighter around her shoulders. “This is so freaking creepy.”

“We have to get out of here,” Hanna announces, standing up. “I’m going to call Lucas and give him a piece of my mind, and we’re leaving. Tonight.”

Emily takes her arm. “Look, Han, he already has all this footage. We have stuff all over this place. It’ll take us some time to pack up. Let’s just find the cameras, throw some blankets over them, and look for a new place.”

"We can't do that with the toilet cam," Hanna points out, looking at Emily archly. “You really don’t want to stay with your mom, do you?” 

Emily shakes her head. “I love her, but she asks me a question every five minutes. Do you really want to stay with _your_ mom?”

“Fair point,” Hanna says. “There’s always The Radley.”

“You want to explain to your mom why we had to run out of this place like it’s on fire?” Emily asks. “Look, I don’t want to stay in this freak’s apartment any longer than you do, but let’s give it a couple of days, keep our ears to the ground, and if we don’t find a new place in that time, we’ll go to The Radley.”

Hanna nods, then realizes the implication of that statement. “A new place means we’re staying in Rosewood,” she points out.

Emily shrugs. “Well, _I’m_ staying. I’m enrolled in Hollis now. What about you?”

Hanna sits back down with a sigh. “I don’t exactly have a job to return to in New York.” She looks up at Emily. “And I really do like living with you.”

Emily smiles. “I’m sure you can find work here,” she says. “And I like living with you too.” She sits beside Hanna. “What do you say?”

Hanna feels a matching grin growing on her face. She kind of likes this plan. “As long as we don’t get kidnapped first, let’s do it!” she exclaims. “But I still want to get the opportunity to yell at Lucas.”

“I wouldn’t dare take that away from you,” Emily replies, and goes back to making their dinner.

 

Emily does amazing work in a few short days, and actually manages to find them a little apartment a few blocks from Hollis. It’s small, but it’s just what they need, and Hanna suggests they snatch it up immediately. She throws Lucas’s iPad in the bathtub, calls and tells him he’s a perv, and she and Emily move into their new home two days later.

Money-wise, it’s a bit of a stretch, but Hanna has a fair bit in savings and Emily still has her egg donation money, so they manage to make it work. They each get their stuff shipped in, from New York and California, respectively. Neither one of them want to go back. It’s time to move forward.

The evening of their official move-in day, Hanna wants to go out but Emily is exhausted, having done most of the physical labor on account of Hanna’s still-recovering body, so they get a few bottles of champagne and end up lying on their new hardwood floors, propped against boxes and giggling like mad.

“I can’t believe this is all happened because Lucas has a toilet cam!” Emily says with a laugh.

Hanna shakes her head as she swallows the champagne in her mouth. “ _Had_ a toilet cam,” she corrects. “I busted that thing to shit. The iPad _and_ the camera.”

Emily leans forward for a high-five before slumping back against one of the boxes. She looks around the box-cluttered apartment. “Did you ever think you’d be back here?” she asks, tone a bit more somber.

“In Rosewood?” Hanna clarifies, and Emily nods. “I don’t know,” Hanna answers. “Probably not. But Rosewood always seems to bring us back. Maybe it means something.”

“Like Rosewood is a giant magnet, or something?” Emily asks with a smile.

Hanna shrugs. “Maybe. I feel like I put so much energy into trying to forget this place. It’s kind of nice to just give in and be here.” It’s a thought she’s had a few times since they made the decision to move in together. There’s a certain relief in just deciding to stay.

Emily seems to consider that for a moment. “Do you feel scared?” she asks.

Hanna sits up a bit straighter. “Yeah, a little,” she replies. “Not ever knowing for sure who’s after us…it freaks me out. But we’ve been through this before. We made it through high school this way.”

“I don’t know how we did,” Emily says, shaking her head. “I forgot how hard it is. Han, when we found you by the side of the road, I really thought you were dead.” Her voice is a bit scratchy as she reaches for Hanna’s hand. “I don’t know what I would have done if you were.”

Hanna forces a smile. “Well, luckily you don’t have to think about that. Because I’m here.” She looks squarely at Emily. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Emily exhales and seems to relax some. “Good,” she says. “Ugh, truth be told, I’m so glad to be out of California. Dead-end job, dead-end relationships.”

Hanna perks up at that. They haven’t had a non-Caleb-related gossip session in a while. “Oh yeah? No viable options out there?”

“Nope,” Emily replies, taking a swig of champagne. “Lots of bad dates and one-night-stands.”

Hanna nods in recognition. “I hear that,” she says. “I’m so tired of dating. I’m sick of men.”

“There are other options, y’know,” Emily says with a smirk.

Hanna slaps her arm. “I’m well-aware, thank you,” she giggles. “But not just men. Dating. It’s exhausting.”

“I know,” Emily replies. “It’s been kind of nice not focusing on that for a while. One of the weird plusses of having A around: doesn’t leave much time for relationships.”

That gives Hanna an idea. “Hold out your hand,” she instructs. Emily furrows her brow but does as she’s told. “Let’s make a pact,” Hanna says, moving to shake Emily's hand. “We’ll take a cleanse from dating. No girls or guys.”

“For how long?” Emily asks curiously. “A year?”

Hanna grows pale at the thought. “That’s way too long,” she states. “How about…until New Year’s?”

“Three-and-a-half months. Okay. Does no dating mean so sex?” Emily asks a bit mournfully. “It probably should, right?”

“You’ve got a vibrator?” Hanna tosses out.

“Han!” Em exclaims, pulling her hand back.

“What?” Hanna says defensively. “It’s a valid question and it can help with this decision.” Emily huffs out an annoyed breath but nods. “Okay. Then yes, no sex,” Hanna decides. “Are you okay with this?”

“Yeah,” Emily says. “I think this will be good.” She extends her hand again and Hanna shakes it.

“We’ll be each other’s sober sex buddies!” Hanna says with a smile, then hears how that sounds. “Sex sober buddies? Sober sex sponsors?”

“We’ll work on it,” Emily assures her, and raises her bottle to toast in celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All credit to the Bros Watch PLL Too podcast for the Lucas toilet cam idea. Doesn't that seem like such a Lucas thing, though? Fic title from Brandi Carlile's "Dreams."


	2. October

A few weeks pass and they fall into something of a routine. Emily gets a job bartending at the The Bradbury a couple of evenings a week, and she goes to school most of the rest of the time. Hanna looks all over town and manages to find a managerial position at the Diva Dish—ironically, it’s Charlotte’s old job, though Hanna tries not to think about that. It’s definitely a step backwards, career-wise, but the options are decidedly more limited in Rosewood than in New York, and she knows there will eventually be other opportunities. One of the women who sells her designs at the Diva Dish needs an intern, and she doesn’t hesitate to give Hanna a call (she can’t, really, when Hanna hounds her about it for four days straight).

Emily brings home food from The Bradbury or Hanna picks up food from the Grille, and they don’t attempt to cook much because neither one of them is very good at it. They spend most evenings—the nights Emily doesn’t have to work—on their tiny couch, watching shows together. They rewatch all of “Orange is the New Black” in a week and a half and then start on “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt.”

The A mystery (or B or A-moji, whatever the hell they’re calling it) has dried up again, and Spencer and Aria head back to D.C. and Boston, respectively. Neither of them are able to fully understand why Hanna and Emily are choosing to stay. Hanna gets it, why that would be confusing, but she quickly becomes too comfortable to think about going anywhere. Being around Emily feels like being at home, all the time. She hasn’t felt this way in a long time.

But one night, when they’re both at home, she realizes they're starting to get a little too comfortable. She and Emily are halfway through a bag of popcorn and just finishing the first season of “Kimmy Schmidt,” when Hanna decides she can’t take it anymore. She pauses the show and switches on a light.

“Hey!” Emily says indignantly.

“We’re boring,” Hanna tells her, pulling the popcorn bowl from Emily’s hands. “We've become a boring old married couple.”

Emily reaches for the popcorn but Hanna holds it further away. “We have not,” Emily replies, scowling. “And even if we have, I don’t see why you had to take away my snacks to tell me that.”

“Because I need you to listen,” Hanna says. “We need to go out. We need to do _something._ Just because we aren’t allowed to date doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.”

“Are you getting tired of me?” Emily asked with an arched eyebrow, having given up on getting her popcorn.

“Far from it,” Hanna answers. “I want to do something with you. Something that doesn’t remind me of how single and poor we are.”

“Hanna,” Emily says chidingly. “C’mon, life isn’t so bad.”

“I agree!” Hanna says with enthusiasm. “So why are we spending it shut inside all the time?”

Emily tilts her head to one side. “Okay, you have a point,” she relents. “What do you want to do?”

Hanna stands up. She didn’t really have a plan in mind, but she can think on her feet. Maybe. “Let’s go to a bar,” she suggests.

“So we can be hit on all night?” Emily says, curling her lip.

Hanna smirks. “You think pretty highly of yourself, huh?”

Emily shrugs and stands as well. “I know what happens at bars.”

Hanna thinks for a moment. “A _gay_ bar, then!” she says, clapping her hands together. “Boy gay, not girl gay.”

“I got that,” Emily replies with a small smile. 

“We still have to dress up, though,” Hanna instructs sternly. She grabs Emily’s hand and drags her toward the closet. “This will be fun!”

A half hour later, they’re dressed and ready to go. Hanna has changed into a purple minidress, one of her staples of New York clubbing, and she’s coaxed Emily out of her sweats and into a leather miniskirt and red tank top. Hanna isn’t sure if the lack of sex is getting to her, but she can’t help but notice that Emily looks crazy hot. Like, Hanna’s aware that Emily’s always been undeniably gorgeous, but tonight she looks…

“Uber’s here!” Emily announces. Hanna shakes her head and looks up from Emily’s ass, and they head outside.

The one (male) gay club in Rosewood is only a few miles away, and it’s called the Unicorn. Hanna’s never been there before, and it turns out Emily hasn’t either. “This place is awesome!” Hanna declares as they walk inside. 

It’s small, but bright and loud and filled with attractive guys. “Hi ladies!” says a man in a mesh top as they walk in. “Welcome!”

Hanna nudges Emily. “Beats the couch, huh?” she asks, and grins when Emily rolls her eyes with a smile.

The place isn’t packed—it is a Wednesday night, after all—but it’s certainly not empty. “I’m going to need a drink before I let you make me dance,” Emily announces, so they head over to the bar.

“Do you have pink drinks?” Hanna asks the bartender. When he gives her a confused look, she waves her hand dismissively. “Never mind. Wrong kind of bar,” she says. “We’ll take two Cosmopolitans.” Emily wrinkles her nose but accepts the drink when it’s handed to her, sipping it gingerly. “Drink up!” Hanna instructs. “We’ve got some dancing to do.” 

Emily rolls her eyes again, taking a hearty gulp of her cocktail. “We’re the only girls here,” she observes, sweeping her eyes across the room. “That feels weird.”

“No unwanted attention,” Hanna points out.

“Wouldn’t be entirely unwanted,” Emily says under her breath, but Hanna manages to catch it and turns to more directly face her.

“Are you missing it?” she asks Emily. “Dating? Sex? Women?”

“All of the above,” Emily admits with a little shrug. “And yet, not missing it at the same time. Does that make sense?”

Hanna nods. “It makes all the sense in the world.” She’s planning to say more, but then the song switches to “Bang Bang” and she grins widely. “Oh my god! It’s our song!” She grabs Emily’s hand without a word and pulls her to the middle of the dance floor.

“Do you still remember our routine?” Emily asks with a twinkle in her eye.

“Uh uh,” Hanna says definitively. “I am not doing that, after what happened last time.”

“But you do remember it, don’t you?” Emily prompts.

“What routine?” a man asks from next to them. “Do you ladies have some moves to show off?”

“What do you say, Han?” Emily asks.

Part of Hanna wants to run and hide, but Emily’s eyes are bright with excitement, and the man beside them starts to softly cheer for them to dance. So Hanna rolls her eyes and begins the routine, as the men around them move to create space. It’s a bit challenging in her dress and heels, but she actually recalls more than she thought, the music creating a muscle-memory effect in her body. And when she’s watching Emily, it’s hard not to follow along automatically. 

Emily is, as always, a goddess on the dance floor, moving like she should be in front of a wind machine in a music video. Hanna remembers how inferior she used to feel watching Emily dance, but now she just feels warmth and love, and a dash of something else, looking at her friend. When they did this dance before, there was so much riding on it, but now they just get to have fun. Hanna nearly loses her footing at one point and Emily grabs her hand, fluidly pulling her into the next move.

The song ends and Hanna starts to laugh, half out of embarrassment and half out of disbelief. The small crowd around them cheers, and Emily does an exaggerated curtsy.

“Brava, brava, ladies!” the man that was beside them calls. “Excellent!”

Hanna plans to retreat back to the bar, but then “Drunk in Love” comes on, and she can’t just leave when Beyoncé is playing. Emily, she knows, feels the same, so Hanna takes her hand.

At first they're just dancing side-by-side, but as the song cranks up they start moving closer, and by the time Jay-Z is rapping they’re pretty much grinding, Emily’s back pressed tightly against Hanna’s front. 

It’s all a lot. It’s all a little too much. Emily’s hair is whipping into Hanna’s face, but it isn’t annoying—it’s mostly just kind of hot because Hanna can _smell_ her. Emily’s body is right there, soft and curvy, and before Hanna knows it she has a hand pressed against Emily’s stomach, locking their bodies together. Em’s miniskirt is riding up, giving Hanna an unobstructed view of her thighs, and Jesus, Hanna hasn’t had sex in so long. That must be it, because now all she wants to do is angle her cheek up into the crook of Emily’s neck, and maybe press a kiss there.

The song ends and they break apart. Emily spins around, looking flushed and perhaps a bit chagrined. “Sorry,” she says, looking down. “That got a little intense. Been a while since…”

“I know,” Hanna says quickly. “I get it.” They wordlessly walk back to the bar. Hanna wants to talk about something, anything to cut this tension, but only one word is thrumming through her mind: loophole.

 

It’s probably a terrible idea. It’s probably a really, really terrible idea.

It’s also all Hanna can think about as she and Emily sip their drinks and make small-talk with the men around them. They’re not really talking directly to each other, not after their little grind-session, and it’s driving Hanna crazy. She’s turned on and pissed off and confused, and finally, when she can’t take it anymore, she grabs Emily’s hand, forcing them to make eye-contact for the first time since “Drunk in Love” started playing.

“Hey, can we go home?” Hanna asks. 

Emily glances around them, seems to survey the empty cocktail glasses, and nods. “You okay?” she asks lowly as they wait for their Uber.

“Yeah,” Hanna replies unconvincingly. It’s not entirely a lie, though. She’s not _not_ okay, exactly. But she’s also actively wondering what Emily’s underwear looks like, and that’s a little weird. And that word, _loophole_ , keeps chanting in her brain. She thinks maybe saying it out loud will take some of its power away.

They don’t talk in the car, or up the stairs to the apartment, but by the time Hanna has closed the door she’s had enough, so she says, loudly, “Loophole.”

Emily turns and looks at her like she’s not speaking English. “I’m sorry?”

“Our pact. The no-sex, no-dating one,” Hanna clarifies.

“I wasn’t aware we’d made others,” Emily quips.

Hanna ignores that and walks further into the room. She flaps her arms a bit, trying to gain some control over this conversation. “We never said we couldn’t have sex with each other,” she finally articulates.

Emily immediately flushes and sits down on the couch. “Hanna!” she says scoldingly. “That’s…that’s not a good idea.”

Hanna was expecting this, and she prepared a couple of arguments in the car. “Why not?” she replies, coming to sit beside Emily. “We’re best friends. We trust each other. It’s only as complicated as we make it, right?”

“Are you even attracted to me?” Emily asks, not totally looking at Hanna.

Hanna rolls her eyes. “Jenna is the only person _not_ attracted to you, Emily,” she replies. When Em looks confused, she clarifies, “Blind.”

“Blind people can still know how people look,” Emily points out. “Jenna and I actually…not the point.”

She grows quiet again, so Hanna takes the opportunity to ask, “Are you attracted to _me_?” She can admit it’s a question she’s wondered more than once.

“Sure,” Emily replies softly. “But, y’know, when you’re a gay girl whose friends are all pretty straight girls, you get very good at compartmentalizing. I had put you in a box.”

“The friend-zone,” Hanna surmises.

Emily tilts her head back and forth, as though that’s not quite it, but she eventually nods. “Yeah. How long have you been thinking this?” she asks.

“Just since tonight,” Hanna answers. “I don’t think I was aware of how horny I've been until we were dancing.”

“Sorry,” Emily murmurs, the ghost of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

“Don’t be!” Hanna says emphatically. “Personally, I blame Beyoncé. It’s impossible to listen to ‘Drunk in Love’ without wanting to have sex!”

“You’re telling me,” Emily replies, her eyes growing a bit vacant.

“What’s up?” Hanna asks, then guesses, “Are you thinking about the ‘Partition’ video?”

Emily snaps back to attention. “How did you know?” she asks incredulously.

Hanna smirks. “I know you, Em. Beyoncé’s always been your weakness.”

Emily smiles. Her shoulders slump forward, and Hanna thinks she looks more relaxed than she has since they got home. “You know me better than anyone, Han,” Emily says. “I _do_ trust you.”

“So what do you say?” Hanna asks. “No-strings-attached sex?”

Emily closes and opens her eyes. “Let me think about it,” she says.

Hanna nods affirmatively. “I’ll take it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently a staple of my writing has become putting Hanna in gay bars!


	3. November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, dear readers, this writer has made a mistake. In the first chapter I wrote that Hanna had fractured her wrist, but there was no mention of a cast or her needing to heal in chapter two. So I’ve gone back and changed said fracture to a mere sprain. I’m sure those of you concerned with the state of Hanna’s wrist will be relieved to hear that. :)

Hanna and Emily manage to avoid having any kind of real conversation until the day after Halloween. For Hanna, it’s not entirely intentional. Work’s been ramping up for them both—it's sort of fitting that the busy season for creepy-ass Rosewood is Halloween—and her mom’s basement pipes sprung a leak, so Hanna’s been helping her clear some things out. But the fact that she hasn’t had to deal with the potential awkward fallout of her and Emily’s night on the town has been an added bonus.

They both get home late on Halloween night, and decide a scary movie marathon and plenty of alcohol seems like the way to go. As movie marathons go, they’ve had better; this one feels vaguely somber. But come the morning and the harsh light of a hangover, Hanna knows they need to talk. They both have the day off, and Hanna isn’t planning on even thinking of leaving the house today.

Emily seems to feel the same way. She knocks on Hanna’s door around ten and announces, “I ordered pizza and made coffee. Come on out.”

Hanna drags herself out of bed and opens the door with a small smile. “You ordered pizza?”

Emily shrugs. “Pizza and coffee is as good a hangover cure as I can think of. I want to talk to you.”

Hanna nods. “Okay,” she says, following Emily out to the couch.

There are two mugs of coffee waiting, and when Hanna reaches for the sugar cubes Emily says, “I already made yours the way you like it. Two sugar cubes and a splash of half-and-half.”

“Thanks,” Hanna says softly, taking a sip. “Mmm.” She drinks a little more before setting the mug down. Now she can talk. “Look, if you want to just forget I said anything, we totally can. I don’t want us to feel awkward around each other.”

Emily glances up from her mug, shaking her head. “I’m sorry it’s been awkward. I’ve definitely had a hand in that. But I, uh, I don’t want to forget it. Truth be told, I like it. I’m just…nervous.” Emily’s guard slips, and Hanna sees that nervousness in her eyes. She looks really young, all of a sudden, just like that shy girl who came out to Hanna all those years ago.

“Why are you nervous?” Hanna asks. Emily studies the mug in her hands for a long moment, and then something clicks. “Because of Ali,” Hanna says. She doesn’t bother wording it as a question.

Emily doesn’t say anything, but she raises her head and offers a slight nod. Hanna shifts closer, gently pulling the mug from Emily’s hands, and sets it down. “Em, talk to me, please.”

“Okay,” Emily breathes out. “After everything that happened with Ali, I don’t want to ruin another friendship. And I mean, Ali and I aren’t ruined, and I know you’re nothing like her, but I don’t know if anything will ever be totally good between her and me. I couldn’t stand it if you and I were like that.”

“Can I ask you something?” Hanna asks. Emily nods. “What _did_ happen between you and Ali? I mean, nothing recently, right?” As far as Hanna knows, Emily and Alison have pretty much just been friends for the last five years. She hasn’t heard anything to the contrary.

Emily bites her lip. “When I came back here, the summer after my dad died, I was such a mess. I’d already lost my scholarship and had been lying to my mom, and I wanted to tell her but I couldn’t. Ali was there. She got it, y’know, having lost her mom. Different situation, sure, but still. And we got dinner a few times, and we ended up sleeping together a couple of times, and then I went back to California at the end of the summer.”

Hanna wrinkles her eyebrows. “Why didn’t you guys keep seeing each other? Try long distance?”

Emily twists her fingers together. “Because it wasn’t real. With Ali, it never has been. Every time we’ve been together, it’s been heavy and sad, but also, I don’t know, like a dream? And then when we came back here, and seeing her with Rollins…”

“Oh, Em, I’m so sorry,” Hanna says. “That must have been awful.”

“I mean, it’s awful in the sense that the guy kind of creeps me out. But seeing Ali with someone else isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I think she’s really changed. And I’m not sure if I fit into her life anymore.”

“You could have told me,” Hanna says, hoping to convey support rather than upset.

“I know,” Emily replies. “But what’s the point? With Ali and I, there was always something, right?”

“Is there still?”

Emily seems to genuinely consider this before shaking her head. “I don’t think so. I guess I’m finally off the hook.”

“Good,” Hanna replies with a small smile.

Emily sighs deeply. “Sex can complicate things, but you’re right when you say it doesn’t have to.”

Hanna places her hand over Emily’s. “I’m not going to keep you on a hook.”

“I know that,” Emily says. “Like I said, you’re nothing like Ali. Look, Han, I know that sex and feelings can get all tangled up. But I’m really not ready for a relationship, and I really do want to have sex.”

“With me?” Hanna asks shyly.

Emily laughs. “Yes. With you.” She sticks her hand out. “So, what do you say? Amendment to the previous no-sex, no-dating pact, including the caveat—”

“I prefer loophole,” Hanna cuts in.

“Okay, _loophole_ that we get to sleep with each other?”

Hanna grins widely and shakes Emily’s hand. “Amendment granted.”

 

Neither one of them feel very sexy that particular morning, so they set the date of their first encounter for the following Wednesday. It’s the next day they both have off, so they won’t be rushed, and they both decided having a plan felt better.

By the time Wednesday rolls around, Hanna feels super nervous. She’s been so focused on the sex part of this situation that she hasn’t really thought about the Emily part. Well, she’s thought about the Emily part—she and her vibrator have spent a _lot_ of time thinking about the Emily part, in these last couple of weeks—but not logistically. Like, she’s actually going to touch Emily’s naked body; what will that be like? What does Emily like in bed? Who will Emily be comparing her to? (The first name Hanna thinks is _Ali_ , and that kind of makes her belly twist up.)

Emily might have a few questions of her own, though, because on Wednesday afternoon as they’re both doing things around the house and talking about everything except the evening’s activities, Emily blurts out, “Have you slept with a woman before?”

Hanna lets out a cough of laughter, half out of surprise and half out of relief that Emily has said something to break the tension, and answers, “Yeah. After Caleb and I broke up. I was…exploring myself, you could say, and I slept with a couple of women.”

“Okay,” Emily says with a quick nod.

Hanna sets her laptop down and gets up from the couch, walking over to the kitchenette where Emily’s been washing dishes. “Are you glad to hear that?” she asks softly. “Or did you want to be my first?” It sounds a lot more flirtatious and porny than she intended it, and Emily must think so too because her head pops up with mild alarm.

“No!” she says quickly. “That’s good. You have some experience.”

“I do,” Hanna replies. Not enough experience to feel entirely adequate, but she doesn’t need to verbalize that part.

The conversation seems to be over, but Hanna lingers beside Emily, who has suddenly become very focused on her dishes. Hanna wants to say more, but she isn’t sure what, just that she doesn’t like how tense things feel.

Finally Emily drops the silverware she was washing back into the sink, rinses her hands, and shuts the water off with some apparent frustration. “This is silly, Han,” she says. “We’re walking around one another like we’ve never met.”

“I know!” Hanna replies. “I hate it!”

Emily grabs a dishtowel and starts drying her hands, her gaze steady with Hanna’s. She inhales deeply through her nose. “Should we just do it now?”

Hanna raises both eyebrows. “ _Now,_ now?” she clarifies.

Emily nods. “Look, this day is only going to get more challenging the longer we drag it out. We’re here—”

“We’re queer,” Hanna chimes in, then adds, “Sorry.”

Emily smiles, possibly for the first time all day. Hanna takes that as an invitation, walking closer and taking Emily’s hands in her own. Emily’s skin is very soft and warm, and the touch immediately calms Hanna. 

“Isn’t it funny that we’ve never kissed?” Hanna asks. “Not even a peck on the lips or anything?”

Emily bites her cheek. “No time like the present,” she says, and pulls Hanna to her. 

The first kiss is clumsy. Their mouths slam together too hard and Hanna starts giggling, her nerves getting the better of her. But then Emily gently whispers, “Shh,” and slides a hand into Hanna’s hair, and Hanna stops laughing. Her lips find Emily’s, softly, this time, and she can feel Emily grinning into the kiss.

Emily lets her set the pace, only opening her mouth when Hanna does the same, but once Hanna feels Emily’s tongue against her own she’s gone. She needs to feel Emily everywhere, wants that softness and warmth to touch every part of her body, and she pulls Emily’s hips against hers. It makes her think, fleetingly, about dancing at the club, about how much she wanted Emily and how confusing that was.

Hanna doesn’t feel confused now.

Emily pulls out of the kiss just long enough to murmur, “My room,” and then they’re kissing again, Hanna nodding her head in response against Emily’s face. They sort of stumble-walk backwards, Emily taking the lead, Hanna still gripping her hips, and somehow make it onto Emily’s bed in one piece. Hanna doesn’t think she’s ever been so grateful for the size of their apartment.

Emily pulls back enough to start tugging her sweater off, but Hanna shakes her head, tapping Emily’s arm. “I want to,” Hanna whispers. Emily smiles and complies, raising her arms for Hanna to pull the sweater over her head. She stands then, tugging off her own jeans, and the quickness with which she moves makes Hanna giggle again. But then her brain short-circuits for a second as she takes in the sight of Emily in just her black bra and panties, dark hair cascading over one shoulder.

“Your turn,” Emily says softly, climbing back on the bed and starting to undo the buttons of Hanna’s shirt. Hanna’s thankful for Emily’s swift fingers, because she’s actually starting to feel a little shaky, being so close to a nearly-naked Emily—a nearly-naked Emily who kisses Hanna’s neck as she takes her shirt off; who asks, “May I?” before helping Hanna out of her own jeans; who actually sits back on her heels to look at Hanna once she’s down to her underwear.

Hanna glances up at her shyly. “You’re beautiful,” Emily says emphatically, gently leaning Hanna back against the bed.

As Emily starts kissing her way down her body, Hanna doesn’t think she’s ever believed it more.

 

"Can we do that again?" are Hanna's first words the following morning, and Emily just kisses her deeply with a smile.


	4. December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I hardcore fell in love with this pairing while writing this story, and I hope you enjoy the final chapter.

It doesn’t take long for sex to become just another part of the routine. Pretty soon Hanna isn’t spending a single night alone; she and Emily are always in one or the other’s beds. At first they try to be careful about sleepovers, often sneaking out before dawn. But after a week or so that starts to seem like too much work. Hanna likes it, truth be told. She enjoys being Emily’s little spoon.

One afternoon, a couple of weeks before Christmas, Hanna gets home from work a little early and is ready for a pick-me-up. She knows Emily will be home, and she’s grateful for it. It’s been a hard day—demanding customers, bitingly cold weather, and someone ate her yogurt. She’s ready to be home, and ready to see what Emily thinks of the new teal lace bra and panty set she's wearing.

When Hanna finally gets in she’s not even really paying attention, just starts shucking off her coat and scarf and talking about her day: “Em, you wouldn’t believe what that bitchy Ms. Martin said to me.”

“Hanna,” Emily calls from the couch.

“I mean,” Hanna continues, moving toward the kitchenette to get a glass of wine. “Who does she think she is? I am _not_ her personal stylist, and she doesn’t get special treatment just because her husband owns the Grille.”

“Han,” Emily says again, rising up and walking toward her.

“And then Lulu stole my yogurt!” Hanna continues, fully on a tear now. “It had my name on it and everything. I swear to god, one of these days I’m going to tell her what I really think about that lilac mop of hair, and I’m not holding back!”

“Han!” Emily says loudly. “I need you to listen to me.”

Hanna furrows her brow. “What’s up?” she asks, setting her wine glass down.

“Ali called,” Emily tells her, tone serious. “She’s getting a divorce and she wants to see me.”

“Whoa,” Hanna says. “Why?”

“Why the divorce? Well, after she got out of the hospital in October I think she realized—”

“That Rollins is a creepy motherfucker?” Hanna prompts.

Emily flashes a very small smile. “I guess so. I mean, she doesn’t have the whole story, but she knows he’s involved in something shady.”

Hanna rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure the bluejay who lives outside Ali’s window could have told us that.”

Emily looks down at her hands. “She wants to see me,” she says again, softer this time.

Hanna nods and tries to pretend that sentence doesn’t make her nauseous. “Do you want to see her?” she asks.

Emily shrugs. “I don’t know,” she replies. “I never know what it means, exactly, when Ali wants to see just me.”

“When we saw her after she got home, it seemed okay,” Hanna offers. “You two _have_ been alone together recently.” That visit back in October had been brief and a little tense, and knowing what she does now about Emily and Ali adds more context to the interaction. But it hadn’t been terrible by any means.

“She wasn’t single then,” Emily points out. “Now she is and I’m…” 

“You are too,” Hanna says too quickly. “Unless you’ve got a girlfriend you’ve been hiding around here.”

“No girlfriend,” Emily says. “But, I mean, I do have you.”

Hanna’s heart is in her throat and her palms are wet, but she’s not even sure why. “You’ll always have me, Em,” she manages to get out, not meeting Emily’s eyes. 

They don’t have sex that night.

 

Emily meets with Alison a few dates later. It happens to be a day that Hanna has off, which is sort of awful, because that means she has all day to stew and wonder. The thing is, she’s not even totally sure what she’s stewing about, just that the idea of Emily and Ali together makes her want to throw up.

She does her laundry and the dishes, reorganizes her shoes and even wraps a couple of Christmas presents, but that somehow only takes an hour and a half. Finally, she can’t take the noise from inside her own head anymore, and she calls Aria.

“Hey!” Aria greets brightly. “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” Hanna lies. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m good,” Aria replies. “But you sound not-so-good. What’s going on?”

Hanna huffs out a breath. “Did you know that Ali’s getting a divorce?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Aria says. “She told me. Why does this make you unhappy?”

“It doesn’t,” Hanna insists. “In fact, I’m sure it’s for the best. But Emily’s over there with her now.”

“Okay,” Aria says slowly, like she’s trying to piece this through. “Are you worried about Emily, or something?”

“Sort of,” Hanna replies. She flops down on the couch, hoping her body will be forced to relax. “Yeah, I guess that’s part of it. You know how Ali gets with her.” It’s not everything, but that, at least, has been on her mind.

“I do,” Aria says, not sounding entirely convinced. “So what’s the other part?”

Hanna is silent for a long moment, before saying quietly, “Emily and I have been sleeping together.”

Hanna can almost see the look of surprise on Aria’s face. “Oh!” she chirps, voice getting a little high. “Wow! Are you guys, like, a couple?”

“No,” Hanna says quickly. “More of a friends-with-benefits thing.”

“And you want more?” Aria asks. There’s a tone in her voice that suggests she just figured it all out, like this conversation finally makes sense to her. It makes Hanna wrinkle her nose.

“I don’t know,” she replies honestly. “We made this no-dating pact, and Emily said she doesn’t want a relationship. And I’ve been totally on the same page, but this Ali thing…”

“You’re jealous.”

Hanna instinctually wants to deny that, but she can’t. Aria isn’t wrong. “Yeah,” she says.

“Talk to Emily,” Aria instructs. “And hey, how long is the pact for?”

“Until New Year’s,” Hanna replies.

“Just a few weeks to go,” Aria offers. “You never know.”

“She’ll have girls lining up for her,” Hanna grumbles. “She always has.”

“That may be true,” Aria says. “But she only has one Hanna.”

 

Emily gets home about an hour later. Hanna tries to look extremely casual, like she hasn’t been checking the clock every ten (okay, five) minutes. Emily looks a little tired, but otherwise fine, and she smiles when she sees Hanna.

“How was it?” Hanna asks.

Emily shrugs and sits beside her on the couch. “It was good,” she says. “Ali’s got a lot of healing ahead of her, but she seemed more herself than she has in a long time.”

“And the two of you?” Hanna tosses out, attempting nonchalance.

Emily shakes her head, but she’s still smiling. “There’s nothing left there, I don’t think. We actually had a really great talk about our relationship, and we decided that being friends is absolutely the right move.”

“Just friends?”

“Yeah,” Emily replies. “Just friends.”

“Okay, cool,” Hanna says, trying to mask the immediate sense of relief that brings her.

She apparently doesn’t do a good job, because Emily’s smile slips into a smirk. “You’re happy to hear that, aren’t you?” she prods.

Hanna rolls her lips together and shakes her head, but she knows she’s been caught.

“You’re smiling,” Emily notes. “You’re trying not to, but you are.” Hanna can feel herself starting to flush, and Emily barks out a laugh. “Hanna Marin, were you jealous?”

“No!” Hanna exclaims, but her face is telling a different story.

“You have no reason to be,” Emily tells her.

“I know that,” Hanna says softly. “I have no right to be. You and I aren’t even—”

“I didn’t mean like that,” Emily clarifies. “I meant, there’s nothing going on. Between Ali and me. Between _anyone_ and me.”

“Oh,” Hanna says.

“Yeah,” Emily replies. She stands up and drops a quick kiss to Hanna’s cheek. “I’m going to bed.”

Hanna isn’t sure if it’s an invitation, but if it is she doesn’t take it. She’s somehow even more confused than before, and her cheek is still very warm from Emily’s lips.

 

They have sex again for the first time all week a couple of night later, and Hanna has to admit that it feels different. Better, maybe, but also worse because she's extra aware of everything now. Like, when Emily kisses her it doesn’t just feel good, it makes her feel dizzy. And when she sees Emily naked, it doesn’t just turn her on. She feels, well, _reverent_ is the SAT word that comes to mind. Hanna’s pretty sure she’s seen sunsets less beautiful than the look on Emily’s face when Hanna slides two fingers inside her. And after Emily goes down on her, Hanna has to bury her face in Emily’s neck to keep from saying something she may regret.

But in the morning, when Emily blinks slowly at Hanna before slipping out of bed to make them coffee, Hanna realizes that if she did say what she felt, maybe she wouldn’t feel so regretful after all.

 

They decide to spend Christmas Eve with their moms and Christmas Day with each other. After all, they’ve become even more so each other’s family in these last few months than they were before. It starts snowing two days before Christmas, and by Christmas morning it hasn’t stopped. Rosewood looks like a winter wonderland, and Emily, in all her holiday spirit, manages to drag Hanna outside to play in it before nine o’clock.

They’re both bundled up, heavy coats, scarves and hats over their pajamas, and Emily looks exceptionally adorable as she twirls in the falling snow. Hanna tips her head back and catches a few flakes in her mouth, completely failing to notice the snowball that Emily has packed and is preparing to throw. 

“Hey!” Hanna says indignantly once it hits her. “No fair! I wasn’t looking!” She reaches down and grabs a handful for herself, not bothering to pack it together, and sends a flurry of loose snow in Emily’s direction. Emily giggles like mad, running around to the side of their building as she prepares another snowball. Hanna chases after her, tossing more loose snow along the way.

They end up in the narrow space between their building and the one beside it, and Emily throws one last snowball before they both realize that they’re too close to have a proper fight. Hanna grins, taking in the sight of Emily with her pink cheeks and a few snowflakes stuck to her eyelashes.

“What?” Emily says.

Hanna shakes her head and says nothing, inching a few steps forward. She can see that Emily is breathing hard, but something tells her it isn’t just from the running. They’re close enough now that she can start to feel the warmth of Emily’s body amidst the cold of the morning. 

Hanna's eyes trace Emily's face. She looks a bit impish, definitely still playful, but there’s something else there. Part of Hanna wants to just push Emily against the building and kiss her senseless, or say something super cheesy like, “All I want for Christmas is you.” She’s not going to do either of those things.  

But maybe Emily has other ideas, because she asks very softly, “Would it be weird if I kissed you?” Hanna shakes her head, too quickly, and Emily grins as she leans forward, cupping Hanna’s face in her gloved hands.

It’s a soft kiss, relatively chaste, but it’s different too. It occurs to Hanna that they’ve never kissed outside their apartment. They’ve never kissed not in relation to having sex. They’ve never kissed the way people in love kiss.

Not until right now.

 

The rest of Christmas Day passes in a comfortable, cozy blur. They decided beforehand to exchange small, practical gifts, mostly things for the apartment, though there are a couple of special presents. Hanna gets Emily tickets to see a local musician she really likes (“Two, for you and whoever else you want to take,” she explains, and Emily merely rolls her eyes and says, “Of course I’m taking you.”) and Emily gets Hanna this pair of earrings from the Diva Dish that she’s had her eye on for months.

They have sex that night, and it’s super sweet again, and in the morning Hanna knows she’s making moony eyes at Emily but she doesn’t really care. Then it’s back to work for them both, the store and the bar both busy in the rush between Christmas and New Year’s. Suddenly, before Hanna knows it, it’s New Year’s Eve, and she’s forgotten to make plans. Emily has too; she thought she was going to have to work but a last-minute change means she doesn’t.

“Should we go out?” Hanna asks once they realize they’ll both be around.

Emily shrugs. “I kind of just want to stay in and watch the fireworks on TV. Is that too boring for you?” she asks teasingly.

Hanna shakes her head. “Nope. It sounds perfect.”

Neither one of them have mentioned the pact in a while, but Hanna knows that now is the time. Two hours before the New Year, she refills their glasses of champagne and prepares to dive in. “So, tomorrow we’re free women,” she offers, clinking her glass against Emily’s.

Emily nods. “We are,” she says noncommittally. “Y’know, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Not at all,” Hanna breathes out. She tilts her head to one side, trying to work this next part out. It feels like she’s been building her courage all month to say this. “Do you think you’re ready? To date again?”

Emily sets her glass down. “Depends on who asks me,” she says. “What about you?” Hanna isn’t sure, but she thinks Emily might be either testing or teasing her here.

Hanna sets her own glass down and looks up at Emily, who is attempting a poker face but has a definite gleam in her eye. “Yeah, well, I haven’t had any offers…” she says slowly, feeling her cheeks warm.

“Neither have I,” Emily tosses back, and oh, she’s definitely making fun of Hanna a little here, because there’s a smirk creeping in at the corners of her mouth.

Hanna sighs dramatically. “Do I have to do all the work?” she asks, but it doesn’t come out as annoyed as she intended. It’s hard to master that, when she’s grinning like a fool. “Emily Fields, will you—”

“Yes!” Emily says, tugging Hanna against her for a kiss.

“I didn’t even—” Hanna says, pulling back. “Mmm. Be my—” Kiss. “Girlfriend.” Kiss.

“Yes!” Emily laughs against her mouth. She pulls back again. “We’re two hours early,” she points out, motioning to the countdown clock on Hanna's laptop.

“Fuck it,” Hanna says. “I think we’ve taken long enough.” She kisses Emily deeply and they both tip over onto the couch, giggling. 

They don’t end up watching the fireworks that night.


End file.
